Beyond the Veil
by smilexfitch
Summary: In June 1996, Sirius Black fell through a certain black veil in the Department of Mysteries. He woke to find himself at Hogwarts in 1975 - his fifth year. He believes himself to be dead, but is there a more interesting reason for his being there?
1. The Fall

**A/N: J.K. Rowling is the proud owner of everything you recognise.**

**Chapter 1 - The Fall**

Sirius took an age to fall. His spine curved into such a beautiful arc as he did so. His expression too held so much complacency. So much acceptance. It almost appeared as if rehearsed. As if this was where he had always meant to be. As if this was the fate he had so dearly awaited these long years.

Surprise danced across his features as his body interacted with the veil itself. But, the daintiness of this dance meant it was not long present. His gaunt, once handsome face became unreadable as it disappeared. Soon he was entirely, completely gone.

The black veil merely quivered at his passing.

The most graceful nature of his downfall was truly heart-breaking to his beloved onlookers. The unrefined hooting of his cousin, his nemesis, was their only comfort. For this enabled anger to be provoked in them, and a feeling of anger, was less pain ridden than a sorrowful one.

Harry alone struggled hard. He did not understand so well as the others. However, he was silenced swiftly.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry….nothing…he's gone."

* * *

Sirius was aware of the events that afflicted him. Though he experienced the fall only once, he felt as though it had been many more times. For after the realm of the veil consumed him, it plagued his thoughts. He could see and taste nothing else. He had a vague sense that he was moving, but in his sad state he could not be sure of anything. From this wavering consciousness, he duly passed into total blackness.

* * *

"Sirius…..Sirius!"

Sirius felt himself shaken violently.

"Sirius! Wake up, mate!"

Sirius felt only slightly aware of this voice. It was enough to cause him to commence the opening of his eyes, but not enough for him to form any real opinions on it. If he had, perhaps the scene now presented to him would not have been such a shock. For Sirius still withheld his memory. And what Sirius now awoke to, was very different from that which he had left.

It began faded. Sirius assumed the period of disuse must have taken its toll on his sight. He was thankfully mistaken. His eyes were only adjusting to counterbalance the changes in light between the two areas. The room in the Department of Mysteries had been darkened. This was inevitable of course, as everything must be done in order to aid the maintenance of its eternal secrecy. Darkness is so linked to the keeping of a good secret, that how could the spot where all good secrets are held not revel in this. This difference here was immediate. This place was currently rejoicing in a seasonal bathing of sunlight. It appeared obstructed by nothing of consequence, and so was able to flow in freely through each orifice.

The bold saturation of this light, although under usual circumstances could only be seen as an uplifting coincidence, meant all was intensified. And, since such a poignant sight now appeared before Sirius, it grew all the more touching because of this. For when you have longed to see a friend for the best part of fourteen years, it is not much to be moved to tears when the moment arrives. His features were simply illuminated more brightly, causing Sirius's tears to fall more heavily.

James ruffled his hair in confusion. Oh – what a godsend that most familiar gesture was to our fallen hero now. It was such that forced Sirius to fling his arms around James. He held him close, absorbing as much of his lost absent nature and aura as he possibly could in such a short period of time.

Warm from this embrace, Sirius decided he did not care that he was dead. For what could be the meaning for James's appearance, if this were not the case. At least his friend was not beyond his reach anymore. The soul he cared about most was here. Therefore, Sirius told himself definitely, he must resolve to be grateful for his passing.

And yet, Sirius could not pull himself from James's comforting grasp, and he could most certainly not prevent himself from wailing.

The awkwardness of the situation caused James to pat his friend in a way as to command his attention.

He laughed, "I know that it's OWL day, but don't you think you're overreacting a bit."

James had not removed Sirius from his dependant position. His words, however, captured Sirius's attention enough for him to move himself. And Sirius now joined James in his confusion. Although of course, each had its own, extremely different origin. James's lay in the most peculiar behavior of his beloved brother. While, Sirius's was raised by the mention of a phase so firmly established in his past that he should not have assumed ever to hear it dropped in the present.

"**OWL** day?"

James fixed his glasses, which had been drifting further and further down his face, enabling him to properly focus his gaze on Sirius.

"Yes. OWL day. Don't know how you managed to get hold of any Firewhiskey last night, Sirius. "

At a notion so ridiculous, even a man such as Sirius, who was not usually so distrusting of his own ear, was forced to check once more.

"OWLs as in exams? As in Ordinary Wizarding Levels? As in tables in rows and everything?"

James was now completely bemused as he repeated that, yes this was indeed what he had meant.

"Wow," Sirius sighed.

Death was more abstract than he had first thought.

He looked at his friend, and aided by this new knowledge, began to recognize differences in him that should have been glaringly obvious. Firstly, he was too thin. James had and always would have been lean, but he had grown much more muscular over the course of his sixth year at Hogwarts. Sirius remembered the day it had dawned on him that James had bigger biceps than he did. It had seemed significant at the time, but now it seemed laughable that he had even cared about a trivial issue such as that. Although James's body appeared to have lost weight, his face seemed in a way more jovial. His cheeks were rounder, and his skin was flushed and shiny. His hazel eyes were for the most part unchanged, but they opened wider than before.

However, despite these changes, he was still truly himself. Sirius could not comprehend who or what he was to recognize him as, other than James. For he still looked and felt like the James who had died in 1981. He possessed a certain ease with the world, to be sure. He possessed a little more fragility, more innocence. He had not yet been hardened by the sight of his whole world at war. He was James, as he would have been, if he had not been affected by the tragedies that were to befall them all.

He was James at fifteen years of age.

Why would James remain fifteen here, since that is not the age at which death took him? Sirius wondered.

Sirius realized he had spoken for a time. He had also been staring at nothing in particular. All peculiar behavior. Especially since James was not to know of the puzzles and questions forming in Sirius's mind.

He believed this was what led James to say, "Well, I better let you get ready. Eh?"

Sirius nodded gravely, deciding this would give him some much needed thinking time. It was difficult to concentrate with James watching.

* * *

With James safely out of the room, Sirius resolved to answer a question that had been irritating him. James did not seem aware that this could not in fact be 1975, or that he was not actually fifteen. So surely he would have noticed when a Sirius as ancient as he himself was, appeared? Which suggested to Sirius, that either this was some twisted figment of his imagination, where this would not matter, or that he too had reverted to his teenage form. He also felt the latter would be much more interesting.

So Sirius searched for a mirror, and peered furtively into it.

He could not help but smile at what he saw.

He was indeed years away from the torture of Askaban. His face displayed no signs of its gauntness or prior starvation. On the contrary, he appeared well fed again –which for Sirius meant the natural beauty he had inherited from being a Black, had returned in full force. His skin was shiny and youthful, and his teeth had brightened to their previous shade of perfect white. His dark hair fell carelessly across his face, inadvertently framing his fathomless eyes so as to make them more striking.

He did not hold himself in the same way as he had at that age, for that was impossible considering the amount of change he had experienced, and the amount of empathy he had gained. Sirius did not realize it himself, but indeed it caused him to appear more attractive than he actually had been at that age. For he was more mature, and this was evident in his posture.

Although Sirius's immediate reaction to this discovery was positive, it only allowed him access to a whole new set of questions. Since he and James were both in their juvenile bodies, did James know that this was not reality too? Or was he the only person aware of this?

Sirius had assumed that he was now dead, and that so was James. That this was in its entirety, just a fabrication that would reveal its meaning in due course.

However, different theories lurked in every corner of Sirius's mind. For there were so many ways to explain this phenomenon. Sirius did not allow himself to linger on the most uplifting of these, for fear that when it was disproved he would be heart broken. He could not let himself think this was real. He could not let himself believe that by some impossible chance he had survived. That would be too much to bear.

Sirius did not think for much longer. It was too taxing for him. He was an impulsive man, not a thinker. Not like Remus. Instead he chose to follow the path he would have taken on this day. There could not be much use in him continually analyzing each aspect of the matter. It would bring him no joy. He had to go and find answers.

So Sirius wandered to the end of his four poster bed in the Gryffindor Boys' dormitory, and opened his chest. He took out the school uniform inside it, and proceeded to change.

He worked hard to stop himself from grinning inanely as he did so. Despite himself, Sirius was rather enjoying himself. He was excited to see his fifth year from his wise eyes. He thought it could be promising entertainment. And, of course he was already dead, so what harm could possibly come to him?

* * *

"There's nothing you can do, Harry….nothing…he's gone."

Harry shook his head stubbornly.

"That's not good enough, Sir. Where has he gone?"

The headmaster was silent.

"I would rather you told me if he was dead," he said. He had tried to sound self assured, yet there was a persistent wavering in his voice. Harry felt that he would never be able to dismiss it.

The headmaster bowed his head. It was a gesture that seemed to convey both respect and sympathy, and a tribute to Dumbledore's fine communicational ability. He seemed as if to know another, more pressing issue. It was one which he proceeded to address.

"I wish I did not have to go as far as to say that – I would long for it to be simple as that, Harry."

Harry exhaled sharply. He clenched his hands together, knowing they were soon to grow damp. He was becoming scared now, and quickly pushed the headmaster for an explanation.

* * *

**I am writing another story at the moment, but this idea would not stop bugging me. I had to write it in self defence. Please review and let me know if you want me to continue, it would be much appreciated. However, if you don't like the story don't! I will continue to focus on my other story. Thank you!**

**xx**


	2. Nostalgia

**A/N: J.K. Rowling is the proud owner of everything you recognise.**

**Chapter 2 - Nostalgia**

Sirius glanced proudly at his tie of red and gold before entering the common room. Nostalgia was doing a terribly good job of captivating him, for those two boldest of colours seemed to reverberate around his head. He had always loved his House. At first this love was fueled by excitement. The air of disobedience had been thrilling to him. The stark difference it presented when compared to the place he was forced to call his childhood home controlled his interest. However, this initial appeal had worn away, as it was always going to. But Sirius still loved his House. For Sirius had developed a true passion for the akin souls that resided within it. He had retained this compassion into his adult life, and therefore the chance to be a part of his House again was completely overwhelming.

Fortunately, the Common Room certainly did not disappoint him. It was indeed exactly as he had remembered it to be. Naturally warm, and comfortable. Every wall adorned with his favorite colours. It was indeed as if Sirius had designed the room himself - it was so perfect to him.

The wall of chatter slammed against him immediately, as expected, and as a result, the familiar sensation of one being immersed in one hundred different conversations returned to him. He had not felt that in a while, considering the nature of current times, and so he allowed himself time to appreciate it properly. However, he soon found even his nostalgia could not mask the poor quality of these discussions. Sirius had not recollected how uninteresting it was to listen in to students gossiping about homework, or of course other students - or in the worst of cases, fashion.

Today, Sirius found himself eavesdropping on mostly talk of the upcoming OWL examinations. Through this he found that they were to be tested in History of Magic in the morning, and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon. He had forgotten, for a moment about this aspect of what James had told him and the recollection of it prompted him to view more signs of it. For example, instead of every student laughing and joking, there were many sitting alone with a red, white or green face. Which of these colours their face chose to turn, depended solely on their disposition. Some had thought enough to use their time more productively, and so had glued their eyes to a History of Magic textbook.

This made it outrageously easy for Sirius to spot the teenager he most wanted to find. For James had always been an arrogant student. He consistently received good marks, and of course knew he always would. No test, no matter the degree of its importance could worry him in the way it did anyone else. It was one of the many ways in which he as Sirius were alike. He was therefore, laying in one of the common room's fantastically luxurious armchairs. His eyelids drifted between an open and closed position, as since his friends were all busy reacting to their concerns, he had nothing to stir his interest.

James's relaxed state caused Sirius to form ideas. Ideas he was confident stemmed from his teenage mindset, rather than his adult one.

He decided to only act on one of his milder plans - one which involved the unfortunate manner in which James had left his mouth. Sirius was duly disappointed, expecting his friend to know better than to leave it wide open. He must know he was truly inviting a prank.

"Orchideous!" Sirius whispered quietly, while pointing his wand at the rather large target before him.

Instantaneously, James spluttered. In contrast to his previous careless position, he now sprung from his seat. He shook, and hopped around in a circle while spitting the conjured flowers across the floor. He made a great deal of fuss, and a large amount of noise. But luckily for him, his classmates were too engrossed in their own matters to even notice. He performed only for Sirius, who laughed violently.

After removing as many blue petals from his mouth as this method could allow, James swung round to face Sirius. Sirius immediately stopped laughing and they stared at each other. Each expression was completely serious. Focused. Any lingering emotion had been disposed of.

Finally, James began to crack. He chuckled, and threw his hand up in the air. Sirius slapped it lightly.

"Good one, man!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"Did you really expect anything less?"

"Not really," James agreed, "But to be honest, I think you were a bit soft. Flowers, Sirius? What are you?"

"Intelligence beyond your comprehension?"

James fell back into his chair and propped his feet on the table in front of him. When he was poised and ready, he spoke again.

"A girl, Sirius. You are a girl."

Sirius laughed at this idea, and attempted to find a witty response. He found this came surprisingly easily.

"If I were a girl, why would I waste flowers on you?"

Sirius laughed again, and he kept doing so. He doubted the extent of this was induced by purely amusement. No, Sirius was experiencing an unrivaled joy. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Everything was right with the world, at least for him at that moment, and he felt like nothing could destroy it.

This gentle teasing continued for a time, with both friends enjoying it immensely. James then patted Sirius on the back and said, "Glad to see you're feeling better. I was worried about you earlier."

The transformation of his voice was swift and subtle, but it was now very amiable. Sirius could see that James was trying as much as he could to be comforting, however it had the adverse effect. Since James could not begin to suspect why Sirius had acted so strangely, he would not be able to know how to lift his spirit. As a result, Sirius's face fell with his emotions.

He hated having to lie to James. But the farfetched nature of the truth meant he was forced to.

"Oh, well. I was just messing around. Um...I think I am a little worried about the OWLs."

James nodded solemnly, and did not ask any further questions. Sirius was thankful that James was so willing to put his faith into his friends, as to not wish to pry.

"You shouldn't be mate. You are going to do great, you always do."

"So do you."

"Well, obviously I do," James beamed, "But, speaking of OWLs, we need to get down to the hall. Where are Moony and Wormtail?"

Sirius's heart snapped at the mention of the latter. He inhaled deeply, as if to prevent himself from reacting in a way that could be seen as inappropriate.

"We should just go without them. I'm sure they won't mind," he muttered.

He had stumbled over the words, so much so that even he was painfully aware of the mistakes he had made. Despite this, and despite the fact that James appeared distinctly confused again, Sirius persisted.

"Really, I'm sure Moony will want to study until the very last second, and Pettigrew - well, he's probably busy throwing up somewhere."

Sirius smirked at his own suggestion. He hoped Pettigrew was indeed throwing up - he would be if he in any way resembled him. It would at least be the tiniest, most insignificant fraction of a punishment for his despicable actions. Plus it would keep him busy, and hopefully out of Sirius's way. For Sirius knew if he saw him, he would not be able to stop himself from killing him. And killing him was such an unknown. Since Sirius did not know what was currently happening to him, he did not know how this world would be affected by a death. It was odd how this instinct had grown ever the more prominent since he had been in the company of James.

"Maybe you're right. Let's go then."

Sirius silently thanked his ingenuity, and they started the journey down to the Great Hall.

They did not speak as they walked. James had been distracted by a pretty sixth year who passed their left, and so was ruffling his hair frantically. Sirius on the other hand, was pondering a new problem that had just occured to him. He had already decided him and James must be dead. However, Moony and Pettigrew were most definitely not dead. Yet James had said they were here. The inconsistency confused Sirius hugely. The probability of him not actually being dead increased to him - as although he still admitted there was a chance that this was all a false reality - he could not bring himself to believe that the James in front of him, was not in fact James. Whether this was based in sentiment or in logic, Sirius did not know.

However, the possibility that he was now in the past of his true reality, became more probable to him. And as he headed into his OWL exams, he worried that any actions he did differently here, could affect his future. He also worried that he was about to fail these examinations, since he could not remember that which he had learnt. Especially not in History of Magic.

* * *

"What do you mean, you wish it was that simple? What is there that could possibly be worse than death?"

Harry sounded angry, but he was not truly angry at his headmaster. He was only behaving as a child does, at the death of a loved one. He was confused, scared and deeply, deeply upset. And now what he thought could be taken for granted, as always true - Dumbledore was now informing him was not at all this way.

"I am not saying he has experienced a fate worse than death. Not at all, in fact. It could be seen as better."

Harry gulped, and looked at the headmaster incredulously.

"But, you just said. You said you wished-"

"No. Do not put words into my mouth, Harry."

His voice was commanding, but not so much as to be intimidating in anyway. In fact, Harry felt more drawn to him because of it. Harry's complete confusion led him to seek the knowing air Dumbledore always held, with much more conviction than he would normally. His desperation made the search ever more urgent. Somehow, Harry was now aware that it was not his time to speak. He knew his headmaster was to continue.

"I said that I wished it was as simple as that. For what has befallen Sirius, Harry, is the opposite of simple. That veil works like a portkey, in that it transports people somewhere. However, unlike a portkey, it does not have a fixed destination. Instead of you telling it where to go, it decides itself where to take you."

Harry felt a second's relief, but unfortunately for him, it was not to last.

"So all we have to do is find where it took him?"

Dumbledore shook his head calmly. He was not patronising in his rejection of Harry's suggestion, even though it was one he knew to be wrong on numerous levels. He realised it was he who had made the mistake, in not explaining more thoroughly.

"No, unfortunately not. The veil can take you anywhere. Anywhere in time and space. And when you are there, you are trapped."

Harry clapped his hands to his forehead. The headmaster did not doubt he was hiding the tears that were now inevitably saturating his eyes.

"So we can't get him back. He might as well be dead," Harry whimpered.

The headmaster did not at this moment know how he was to go about comforting the boy. He proceeded with his explanation instead.

"There is a prerequisite for the destination."

Harry raised his head.

"The veil takes you directly to the time and place you committed the worst mistake of your life. The only way for Sirius to return, is for him to change his mistake. If not he will be forced to repeat the past for all eternity."

"So, how can we help him?" Harry cried.

Dumbledore sighed.

"If we help him, we could change the future. We do not know what mistake his was, therefore we do not know the possible outcomes of him changing it."

Harry's tears began to fall more heavily.

"Sirius knew a terrible fate could be the result of this fight, Harry. If he wanted you to help him, I'm sure he would have left you a way to do it."

There was a notable glimmer in Dumbledore's eyes as he spoke that last sentence, and Harry looked to the professor for an explanation.

He was sadly only given, "You better get a move on. Sirius probably believes he is dead by now."

* * *

The sight of the Great Hall dressed, instead of with its usual four long tables, with many smaller ones instilled Sirius's anxiety. It had been stripped of any decoration and character, and did not feel like the same place the Marauders had shared so many laughs in. The same place glory was found in the awarding of Quidditch and House Cups - no, it did not feel the same at all.

The emptiness of the place too made him feel uneasy. He and James appeared to be the first people present.

However, Sirius had been misled. Only James's eager eye was enough to see what he had been unable too.

"Hey, look who it is!"

James sounded significantly uplifted, and Sirius searched for the source of his attention. He did not find it, however, he did not have to. For James's flushed cheek and now intensely messy hair handed him all the information he could have wished for. There was only one girl who could possibly invoke such a reaction in him.

"Hey! Evans!"

James's voice was loud, and Sirius did not watch to see Lily roll her eyes, as she inevitably would.

"How are you?"

"All the worse for seeing you, thank you very much."

She threw her quill onto one of the many desks, and pointedly faced away from them.

"Aww, Evans. Won't you at least try to let me be nice to you?" James persisted.

Sirius tried to distance himself from the conversation, if it could be called that, and proceeded to take a desk. He then took refuge behind it, and forced himself to look away from Lily. It was the most he could do. He felt a little safer there.

Soon enough James slumped into the seat beside him, muttering to himself.

"I do not get that girl, Padfoot."

Against his better judgement, Sirius gazed over at Lily. The object of James's affections was indeed exactly as he remembered her. Possibly more beautiful than he remembered, Sirius thought. Although Sirius wished to say that he did 'get her', he decided this would not be the most welcome course of action.

"Nah, me neither mate."

James laughed, and both friends moved on to other, less stressful topics.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reviewing my last chapter, I am glad you enjoyed it! I have updated, as promised, and would now appeciate any more reviews! Tends to motivate me to update faster...**

**Any thoughts on what Dumbledore wants Harry to do, anyone? Any thoughts on Sirius's mistakes either? Would love to hear any of your ideas!**

**xxxx**


	3. The Development

**A/N: J.K. Rowling is the proud owner of everything you recognise.**

**Chapter 3 – The Development**

At Sirius's ripe age, it did seem odd to be taking an OWL. His arch eye suddenly saw how pointless the questions asked of pupils truly were. Sure, it had not seemed that way at the point of his first entry, but with hindsight he understood how little this information would actually benefit any budding witch or wizard when they were to meet with the real Wizarding World.

Sirius believed life experience was the only thing to be gained that was ever of any value. Sirius allowed himself a moment to explore the revelation that he most certainly possessed more of it than the other teenagers, or indeed the professors, residing in the hall.

Unfortunately, although these factors did invoke some sense of comfort for our hero, neither could change the fact that History of Magic was hopelessly difficult. Sirius did not have the slightest awareness of how he was supposed to remember and list each of Wendelin the Weird's forty seven disguises worn when she was burnt at the stake. Nor did he could he describe in detail the curses Egyptian wizards had put on Tutankhamen's tomb. When he reached the section asking him to explain the reasons for the split of the Hogwarts's founders, he felt he had answered well. For that particular period of time had always interested him greatly. It was too relevant for him to possibly forget, and he noted down points even the most studious of pupils would not have recollected.

It was this question which prompted him to recognise the paper somewhat. He vaguely remembered that it was, in fact, his excellent final answer that had been the reason for his attaining an Outstanding in the subject, despite his apparent lack of knowledge throughout. He hoped he had again responded as thoroughly.

After completing each page of parchment, Sirius folded it neatly and placed on the corner of his desk. It was perfectly positioned for the professor to take efficiently so it could be marked. Sirius was surprised at his behaviour, but considered that the over-examination occurring at school meant it had most likely grown into a reflex reaction. It was not the sole one to have developed from endless examination. Unconsciously, Sirius glanced across the rows of students encircling him. He was, as most pupils do, attempting to tell whether others had too finished. For he did not want to be done early, as this could signify he could have made mistakes, yet he did not want to be late either. For reasons that are, of course, understandable. Fortunately these fears were rapidly relieved. Around half the students were currently checking through their papers, and the rest were writing diligently.

There were merely three exceptions to this rule. Firstly, and most obviously, there was Sirius himself. Next, there was James Potter, who was currently splayed out across his seat in much the same manner as he had been in the common room armchair earlier that morning. Even Sirius could not quite comprehend his cause of his ease, although he did not doubt he himself behaved in a similar fashion at that age.

However, Sirius gradually realised that he had not properly interpreted that which was before him. James's retention of composure had nothing at all to do with ease. Sirius was disappointed in himself for assuming so. A casual observer, perhaps would deduce that as their conclusion, but Sirius, with his in-depth knowledge of the subject, should have certainly known better. For James was presently over-conscious of himself. He was acting to impress his nearby peers.

And, evidently, one in particular. For James was looking directly to the left of him, grinning inanely at the third and final finished individual.

Lily Potter.

"Evans," he muttered. His speech was close to silent, so as not to disrupt the examination. However, it was loud enough for the name to clutch desperately to his memory, which was the purpose of his outburst. It could cause some trouble if he began to call her Lily **Potter** in the vicinity of any being bar himself. Even if this was post death, Sirius did not think this could be in any way wise.

Sirius saw Lily sigh at James's exertion. Sirius was not taken aback, yet he still felt saddened at the failing of all his friend's effort.

Lily then chose to stare straight through James.

From Sirius's angle it almost appeared as if she was looking at him.

He forced his gaze downwards swiftly.

* * *

"Do you think you could possibly keep your eyes off me in our next OWL, Potter?" Lily said stubbornly.

James pretended to look shocked.

"Whatever do you mean, Evans?" he gasped.

"You know what I bloody mean!"

Lily was gritting her teeth by this point. It did not take much to recognise how entirely irritated she was. James angered her generally, but since this was concerning OWL qualifications, an extremely serious matter – she was positively seething. Sirius could empathise with her, for she could in theory have been distracted by James's adoration. However, he did believe that since she had finished her paper before James had behaved at all immaturely, she was over-reacting somewhat.

This did not prevent him feeling a distinct pang of embarrassment at his dear friend's behaviour. This embarrassment only increased as James continued to speak. Somehow his retorts did not seem as hilarious, or as intelligent, as they had been when Sirius had first heard them. The newly formed age difference between the two suddenly seemed so clear to him.

"Fine, fine. I will promise to keep my eyes off you, Evans, hard as that is. As long, of course, as you promise to keep yours on me. Obviously I will make allowances when you are eating, doing homework or vice versa."

Lily shook her head immediately, before throwing up her hands in exasperation.

She sounded fairly breathless as she said, "I won't be able to do that without vomiting, Potter."

"Now, we both know that isn't true. Don't we?"

James's eyebrows were raised, and his calm tone provided a welcome contrast to Lily's agitated one.

"You never stop bothering me, do you Potter? You just can't fit it into that big head of yours that I really don't like you."

Lily was now panting. Her strong temper would not allow her to drop the glare she had fixated on James, and it would certainly not let her leave. James's wish to retain as much of his pride as possible was the factor preventing him from walking away. So, both remained utterly stationary for a moment.

Lily ended this, not by leaving, but by forcing James to. If he had not have done, he would not only have lost his pride, but his dignity also.

"I never will like you. Ever."

* * *

"What's wrong with her, Sirius?"

This was the only question that had managed to penetrate the thick silence which had fallen between the friends since they had left Lily alone in the corridor. And it presented Sirius with so many opportunities.

Firstly, Sirius wished to inform James of the mistakes in his behaviour. Next, he wanted to order him to stop behaving so childishly. And finally, he longed to advise him on the appropriate changes he must make to win Lily's heart.

However, Sirius did not do any of these things. He told himself this was because James was not looking to him for a serious response. He told himself James was only asking for comedy, as a weak antidote to his wounded pride. And he, Sirius, would reply accordingly.

"Dunno, mate. She's probably PMSing."

"Good old Padfoot!" James laughed.

Sirius protested that this could indeed be a realistic option, because his sisters had always behaved in a similar fashion once each month, as they continued their journey to Gryffindor Tower. Consequently, the second half of the walk passed considerably faster than the first.

Different concerns caused the two boys to bound equally hastily up the stairs to the Boys' Dormitory. James wanted, at least for the moment, to remain hidden. He stated that this was because he did not want Lily to spot him, for fear his presence would cause her to feel uncomfortable. Sirius could not doubt that this was included in his present list of worries, however he doubted it had positioned itself at the forefront. Sirius suspected James to be much more concerned of others' perceptions of the event. It was likely he had decided that if he could remain unseen, the incident could stay unheard. Or as unheard as was possible. Therefore, James had wandered to his bed and proceeded to seat himself. Sirius observed he had arched himself over somewhat.

Sirius's reason for wanting to visit the dormitory was definitely simpler, a phenomenon that surprised even him. All he needed was to collect a new quill, for the feather on his had snapped within the course of the day's exam. He presumed he still kept his stationary under his bed, as he always had done. He stooped himself over, so as to manoeuvre his hand underneath effectively.

Abruptly, he became motionless.

This was not because he had located the quill, but rather because he thought he had heard a sound originating from that point. He paid further attention, and was about to conclude it must have been his imagination, when he heard it once again. He could perceive it a little more this time. It was faint, and had echoed hugely, but had still revealed additional and vital details to him. For now, he knew it had most definitely been a voice. Although, of course, the poor quality of it meant he could not recognise its owner. However he could make out a much more important issue. It had called his name.

* * *

Harry explained each detail of his conversation with Dumbledore to Ron and Hermione, and before long they appeared as puzzled as he felt.

"So he is backwards in time, but still in our world?" Ron asked, again.

"Harry has already explained this four times, Ronald."

Ron winced at the use of his full Christian name, but Hermione ignored his reaction in favour of continuing.

"Sirius could be anywhere, in any place – and in any time. But he is still running in the same time line as us, so any choices he makes can affect the present. It isn't difficult to understand."

"Thank you Hermione. I think I understand now," Ron smirked.

Harry groaned, before participating in some private mumbling as he waited for an end to Ron and Hermione's current bickering. This was not done in a random manner. It was actually quite to the contrary. For Harry was merely repeating aloud the phase that been haunting his mind since its release.

"If he wanted you to help him, I'm sure he would have left you a way to do it."

Over the years, Harry had grown to realise that there was always an underlying importance within any information or sign given by the headmaster. No matter how insignificant the initial comment seemed, it would house a crucial clue. He did not doubt that this was again the case. Harry even went as far as to presume this was one of the more reasonable statements, yet he still could not understand its meaning. For how could Sirius have come to know he would become lost in time? And how could Sirius have left him a means in which to cope with it?

He was sure Sirius had not informed him of any way in which to contact the past.

Yes, he was sure of it, he decided, whilst sighing at his own hopelessness.

The exhalation was not only apparent to him, it had not gone unnoticed by his friends either. They duly asked if he was alright.

"It's just something Dumbledore said. I can't seem to understand what he meant."

Hermione nodded for him to continue, and as he did so, her bemused expression began to alter. Soon there was, in its place, a familiar and welcome smile.

Harry understood immediately and was on the verge of asking her the line's meaning, when Ron spoke earlier.

"What do you know then, Hermione?" he asked, in a tone that could be perceived by some as mocking.

She rolled her eyes at him, before fixing them on Harry.

"Didn't Sirius give you a present, Harry, when you left number twelve Grimmauld Place? I think you should probably check that."

Ron nodded in agreement, although he himself had not played any part in the suggestion.

As Dumbledore's intentions became clear as clear could be, Harry's heart began to race.

_"Use it if you ever need me, all right?"_

Those had been Sirius's words as he had handed it to him. And with that, he knew. He knew he was going to be able tell Sirius everything, right now.

He threw his arms around Hermione in gratitude, before rushing upstairs and opening his trunk. He rooted around until he came across a small, badly wrapped package laying in one corner. Ripping away the opaque covering revealed to him an old, square mirror. Harry was, at first, puzzled - however this grew into complete jubilation as he read its accompanying note.

_"If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it."_

Excitement was overwhelming him, causing his hands to tremble as he raised the mirror slowly to his face.

Loudly and clearly, he said, "Sirius."

He then stared into his own blinking green eyes, waiting and longing for them to be replaced by the deeper grey pair belonging to his godfather. It was heart-breaking that this did not happen as he had assumed.

He cleaned the mirror's surface quickly, as his own breath had caused it to turn somewhat misty. He then gulped, as he resolved to try once more.

"Sirius Black!"

His own eyes, and his own crushing disappointment were his only response. Yet, he could not quite bring himself to relinquish all hope. For his headmaster was never wrong, and Harry had faith in that. He prepared to call again, when he was stopped by Hermione's entry into the dormitory.

"Harry!"

He wiped his face of any tears that had formed during his efforts, and then turned to face her.

"It isn't working, Hermione." he whispered. He was caught in an extremely fragile state, and was struggling to think rationally. For example, he could only assume the worst possible meanings for Sirius's silence.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"This is very difficult, Harry."

He nodded his head wildly.

"I know, Hermione. I don't know how to make him answer."

However, she only appeared more distraught at this reply, and her voice wavered as she continued to speak.

"That isn't what I mean, Harry. I think we need to consider the possible effects Sirius releasing himself from the past could have. If he changes his mistake, it could affect the nature adversely."

* * *

Sirius decided he was truly paranoid. He had imagined voices calling his name, for god's sake! That was definitely not the marking of a sane man. He listened intently again, still clinging to the hope that he would find the origin of this so-called voice. However he did not. The voices had certainly stopped.

Sirius supposed he could at least seek solace in the fact that he had distinguished that the voice was an imagining. That proved he had hold of at least some of his mind. But then he did believe he was in his teenage body, trapped in his past. So perhaps he didn't after all.

He chose to forget about finding a new quill, and instead go to the Great Hall and get some lunch to bring back to the common room. This would, at best, clear his mind, and at worst, fill his now growling stomach.

James gave him an order of pumpkin juice, a chicken ham sandwich and a jam doughnut, since he could not venture out himself.

"Unhealthy, much? You are a disgrace, James Potter!" Sirius laughed as he left the dormitory.

* * *

Sirius was heartened to see the hall decked with its usual four long House tables. He was not sure he could have borne the tarnished sight of it without them. Not again. He had to prevent himself from gazing happily at the table belonging to Gryffindor. He wanted to look up and down it repeatedly. He longed to scan each and every inch – so as he could lock it within his memory properly.

Unfortunately he had not the time. For Sirius knew he must be swift. There were many Gryffindors already dining, and he was fearful one in particular might be among them. He knew he could not risk being spotted by Peter Pettigrew, for fear of what he could be capable of if he were to see him. And the uncertain nature of this world meant he could not guess at the effect any action would have on it. Regrettably, this meant he could not be seen by Remus either, as his friend was sure to be in Pettigrew's company.

So, Sirius took the food James had requested from the laden table, then picked up something he thought he himself would eat. Relieved at not seeing Pettigrew, he then turned, and proceeded to leave.

"Sirius!"

Sirius flinched. His initial concerns had made him tense, and he had assumed if he were to be caught, it would be by Pettigrew. However, the gentle nature of the voice soon led him to its rightful owner.

"I don't like you either you know."

Sirius bowed his head, meaning that as he twisted himself around, he did not actually have to look at Lily's face.

"I know," he growled.

"Can you please actually look at me?" she implored.

Sirius gulped, but did as she had asked. Her features were much softer than they had appeared that morning, and she had regained her usual vivaciousness.

"Thank you," she said, and she flicked her dark red hair over her shoulder.

Sirius noticed she bit her lip before speaking again.

"I do feel bad about this morning. I really do."

Sirius remained silent.

"It's just, I don't know. I can't bring myself to give him a chance, Sirius. He is horribly big-headed, and he hexes everyone. He is cruel to Severus, even though Sev is my friend."

"Why are you telling me this, Lily?" he sighed. He attempted to make himself seem as if the question held no interest for him, however, he sadly failed.

She lowered her head.

"I guess- I guess I am just confused. I guess, OWLs make everything seem worse than it actually is."

She appeared desperate, and indeed Sirius even observed her green eyes now had gained a distinct shine.

This observation gave Sirius a chance to embrace Lily Evans, of course in a way as such to comfort her. He only patted her on the back gently, after all.

"I'm as immature as James is, you know."

Lily laughed, and pulled away from him slightly.

"I do know that. You occasionally seem a little less conceited, and little more empathic - is all. You wouldn't be as unthinking as he would, at least, I hope you wouldn't."

Sirius's breath caught, and he felt for a moment as if he would not be able to shift it. It was a welcome alternative to focusing on his current thoughts at least. He had remembered this brief friendship that had existed between Lily and himself, but he had attempted to avoid it since his point of arrival in this time. It did not feel right that they should have ever been closer than Lily was to James, no matter how meaningless or short the relation. It had previously been safely stored away, however recent reunions had brought it firmly to his attention.

"I have to go," he muttered, before running from the hall.

In his haste, he dropped James's pumpkin juice - and did not even say goodbye to Lily.

* * *

**That was a bit of a long one! Well for me anyway, my chapters are normally a little shorter than that. **

**Thank you for reviewing so far, it would really mean the world if you could continue to do so. **

**Any more ideas on Sirius's mistake? I want to see if it is guessed before it is revealed. And w****ell done to oXXb00kw0rmXXo for guessing the two-way mirrors! **

xx


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